Page 3 of Fortress of the Soul

She waves a hand at me. “Angelo and his rules. I’m mortified that he’s making you babysit. I’m sure there’s a workaround… somehow.”

I scratch my chin as the corner of my mouth turns up. “Right, and on what planet will Angelo change his mind?”

“My brother’s insane.”

“No, he cares about you.”

She rolls her eyes, puts her coffee down, and opens the pretzel bag. Her eyes flick to mine. “Fancy one?”

I pat my stomach. “I’m watching my weight.”

She shakes her head. “So it’s okay to load me with calories?”

I grin. “Looks like you could do with them.”

She’s always been slight, but I notice she’s filled out nicely in a few other areas…shit.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

It occurs to me suddenly… she’s up to something. I’ve known her a while, and she’s being overly…nice.

I cock a brow. “Valentina,” I say, as she bites into the pretzel, and I ignore how my dick stirs at the sight of her lips around the damn thing.

She glances up at me. “Yes?”

I lean forward on the desk. “You know I know you too well.”

“Not that well,” she sing-songs.

“Well enough to know that you have that look in your eyes.”

She licks her fingers as I avert my eyes. I’m confused by my reaction to her; I don’t know what’s happening.

She flicks her eyes to mine again. “What look?”

“Thatlook. Spit it out, for Christ’s sake.”

She dusts the crumbs onto the napkin she laid out on the desk and continues to chew while I wait. Lucky for her, I’m a patient man.

“The thing is…”

“No.”

She frowns, putting the rest of the pretzel down on the napkin. “You don’t even know what it is yet!”

I shake my head. “Whatever it is, it isn’t good.”

Another eye roll.

First will come her look of innocence. Then the big eyes. Then the pout and the silky voice. Her way of getting whatever she wants.

Valentina Medici has all the men in her family under control, but that doesn’t mean I’m one of them. “The thing is,” she begins again. “This wedding isn’t just a good friend getting married, E, it’s a high society wedding. There will be a lot of contacts there, influential people, high-fliers, so to speak, people who may be interested in hiring me.”

“Are you getting to the point? I’m getting old over here.”

“And if I show up there, with like a chaperone… it’s going to look a little… pathetic.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say, crossing one leg over as I reach for my coffee. “But rules are rules.”

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